Don't Stop
by blue wigged thespian
Summary: What matters is that the girl under you—Bianca DeSousa, the girl who technically stole your idiotic ex-boyfriend but you forgive her after said ex-boyfriend proves himself to be a dick and dumps her for some other stupid-ass chick—submits herself under you. Kianca one-shot.


**AN: Wow - um. Okay. I was thinking about this in one of my history classes (it was boring as hell!) and I'm almost proud of it. Second person, while being looked down upon, happens to make it sound better (to me. I don't understand why we can't post them here) and I love Kianca, so enjoy (;**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi. _**

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You don't exactly know how you got in this predicament, but you definitely like it.

The first minute, the both of you are chatting; since your friendship (or lack there_of_) died because of boys (or a _certain_ boy,) but now you're willing to put water under the bridge. However in the next minute, the clothes on your backs are a mere mystery, finding their way to your bedroom floor.

You manage to keep your bottom underwear after a session of heavy open-mouthed kissing and clothes-removing. However, that's not on your mind right now. What matters is that the girl under you—Bianca DeSousa, the girl who technically stole your _idiotic_ ex-boyfriend but you forgive her after said ex-boyfriend proves himself to be a dick and dumps her for some other _stupid_-ass chick—submits herself under you, while originally being a dominant woman.

You stare at the senior under you; the dark, almost chocolate-brown staring back at your ice blues with lust, lips slightly parted, and skin flushed, just a little. You still see it, and you think it's incredible, how she's still able to flush despite her tan complexion. You dip down to her neck, and lick it from the collarbone up, causing her to gasp your name—"_Katie_,"—and you smirk against her skin.

Your hands find themselves feeling Bianca's ravenous curls; you've always wanted to touch it, and know if it's as rough as it looks. You're wrong. It's soft, despite the toxic chemicals you usually smell from afar. This time, it's a fresh smell - mint, maybe - and it pulls you in. You can't get enough of the smell, just as much as you can't get enough of tasting her skin. You kiss her neck, suck her neck - ignore the fact that anyone can see a developing hickey on her neck; it gives you the opportunity that Bianca DeSousa is _yours_, and that she will always be yours as long as that love mark stays on her neck.

Bianca whimpers and hisses - and you _definitely_ want to hear more of that. You haven't even started, and you're already aroused at the small noises she's making under you. Shit - it's like a beautiful short song to your ears when she whimpers like that. How can she simply make you go crazy with moans like that? You're definitely not complaining, so why **should** you ask?

Your perfectly manicured hands find their way towards her breasts, and you palm them. They're so soft, and full to the touch; you love them. You've touched your own before, but they're not as full, ample, soft as the ones below you. Your fingers knead the senior's nipples; rubbing the small, perky nipples between your fingers softly at first, but as you apply pressure, her whimpers turn into moans. You're finding it hard to control yourself now, but you have to do it. You have to control yourself and not throw yourself right into the action. You want it as slow and anticipating, and Bianca, the unlucky (no, _lucky_) girl that she is, has to deal with it.

You reach down and replace your right hand with your mouth; kissing and swirling around the right breast with fervor. You hear a word spill out—"God,"—and it's so low, it's almost a gasp. You bite - lightly so you don't hurt - on her nipple, and lick it, releasing your mouth from it. You move to the left - no body part left behind - and do the same. You look at her face briefly; she's breathing harder but not hard _enough_. Not yet. You want her thrashing against your bed, legs shaking, heavy petting, hair _pulling_—you want it all.

In your simple way of teasing, yet again - because you want to slow the process - you lick a trail from her perfect navel up to her sternum. Bianca's skin - oh fuck, her _skin_ - it makes your taste buds run wild. You can't hold it any longer, and as you stop licking, you moan yourself. You can't deny; it's the most delicious act you've ever done. And you're definitely not a virgin - after the inebriated, mistake sex you had with your dick of an ex-boyfriend, who is also Bianca's ex now, but you know he let go of a _delicious_ woman for you to have, even though all of this isn't really mindful - so you know how this works. Or, you _think_ you know how this works.

Bianca grows impatient - she gives you a look of wonderment and her silent way to _'get on with it'_ tells you so. You chuckle, and go down that same trail, leaving a sloppy trail of peppered kisses that makes Bianca elicit a small moan with each one. Her impatient grunt signals you to hurry it up, but you're already down there, with your index fingers holding the elastic of her panty. She nods, as a signal, and the skimpy last piece of clothing is off, all of her goodies out in the open for you to see up close.

You haven't seen another woman's sex - except your own - as fascinating as this; you've seen the appendage of your ex-boyfriend before, and while it was a sight to see, the sight before your eyes beats that image in the past. It _definitely_ does. It's bare, except for that landing strip of hair, but you don't care. The hair doesn't fascinate you. It's how you can see everything up close; she's swollen and wet, anticipating your next move.

"You ready?" You speak; your voice low with lust behind it, staring back at her for a small moment. She simply nods once, and hopes that you don't tease her any longer. She's sick of your _fucking_ teasing already; she doesn't want to wait what's in store. You see it in her eyes. She wants it _now_.

And finally - since it's the moment you two've been waiting for, ever since you saw her writhing under you - you dive in, and you feel her back arch, and she moans loudly - you hope to the heavens no one is home, however with that constant reminder that your sister is with her friends and your parents are at the doctors, you have a lower chance of getting caught, even when she's practically screaming in pleasure.

You use your inexperienced mouth moves - however you're doing _wonders_ - to circle her clit, lap her juices. Tasting her for the first time; it's so much better than anything you've tasted before. Her sweet nectar - you're finding yourself wanting more of it. It drives you even more crazy when she moans your name over and over again - **katie**_katie_katie - and it's now you realize her hands are on your head, slightly pulling your black-dyed hair. The hair pulling makes you moan, sending vibrations against her, and her legs shake with lust and anticipation.

"You taste so good," you whisper inaudibly.

Your fingers find their way towards her entrance, and, almost easily, you slide one finger in her tight (**wow**) entrance, and you immediately find that sweet spot that can shatter a girl's walls down; making them squirm and thrash against you. "You're so tight."

A loud gasp elicits in the silence, and you hear a cuss word slip out of her mouth—"**fuck**,"—almost unconsciously. You love that word now - especially the way Bianca says that word. Like _fuck_, if you were that vulnerable, Bianca would say it again and your world would crumble.

Bianca does say it again, with more pitch and she adds in more words - "Don't you dare fucking stop, _Matlin_."

"I wasn't planning on stopping," you growl, and you thrust your fingers in faster, touching that spot again. She shouts to the heavens again, and you're finding yourself loving the sound of her voice - filled with plead, with a trace of lust. She whispers your name - like a prayer, because she mindlessly, unconsciously tells you that you're fucking _good_ - and you keep moving. You keep licking, lapping up her sweet juices, a silent "_mmmmm_" coming out of you every few seconds.

Her breathing labors and her hips buckle - once, _twice_ - and for some reason, you sense that her climax is very near. You definitely don't stop, mainly because she demands you not to, and because you want her to scream your fucking name, so loud that the **neighbors** would know your name by the end of the night. You stifle a laugh, but the vibrations - god the vibrations from your _tongue_ - it makes her walls clench, but you don't stop.

Her back arches, her head thrashes against the pillow, and her legs shake uncontrollably as Bianca yells her climax, and you hear your fucking name, _again_. God - you gotta admit - that's better than the music your sister plays on her cello. You watch Bianca as she shakes and thrashes around from her orgasm, almost riding out your fingers. You smile devilishly after you feel her walls unclench.

"Holy _shit_." Bianca pants, still shaking under you.

You chuckle, and say nothing as you pull your fingers out of her entrance, and lick your hand clean in front of her. _Shit_ - you found your favorite snack now, because everything about her tastes _so damn good._ You would probably want more, but after that, you're pretty sure round two would wait a while… or the next day. She grabs your shoulders and kisses you roughly, almost bruising.

As you two pull away, you stare at her again, and you're almost glad that you didn't stop, because afterglow looks so good on her. At that point, saying anything would kill the moment, so you keep your mouth shut as you fall into each other's arms.


End file.
